


Capture This

by Sunshine101010



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Black Hat is an asshole, Dark Humor, Demencia isn’t helpful, F/M, Gen, M/M, Reader gets kidnapped and Black Hat loses his shit, Reader is only trying their best, They got it BAD for him, but he cares, gender neutral reader, reader is A DUMBASS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 04:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine101010/pseuds/Sunshine101010
Summary: Black Hat only told you about the intruder inside of the mansion because he had known you long enough to realize three fundamental things.One, you were oblivious. Two, you had a penchant for throwing yourself at danger. And three, you were a magnet for trouble.Within the span of a few hours, you prove him to be correct on all three accounts.





	Capture This

You were in deep trouble.

That was the only thing you could think of as you worked your hands against the plush carpet of the floor, desperately trying to rid yourself of the imposing stain still making itself apparent, even against the deep wine color of the damn rug. Months of working in the Black Hat Organization mansion had led up to this moment, countless hours of training to finely hone the skill needed for this grueling job.

Tossing the abused rag that you had been cleaning with over your shoulder, you opted for more drastic measures to fight against this calamity, pulling out the steel wool from the bottom of the bucket you toted your cleaning supplies around in.

"Oh man,_ oh man_ I really screwed up, didn't I?" You started to mumble, not giving a chance for your company to respond before breaking out into a full-on ramble.

"But, come on, who in their right mind leaves an open container of ink just sitting on the edge of a counter? It was just waiting for me to come along and knock it over. Who even uses bottles of ink, anyway? I get it, ok, I really do. Kudos to Mr. Black Hat for being so faithful to this edgy-Victorian-creepy-haunted house vibe he's given the mansion, but really now, he has to be so _extra_. I mean, the upmost respect to him, of course, but just type an email for damn sake, what's with all this quill and ink business?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you continued to fight against the stain, failing miserably at both tasks.

"And, and, _knowing him_, this probably isn't even normal ink. It's probably like, unicorn tears mixed with the souls of the damned or something. I've already had to clean up all of those wails of agony that Demencia spilled from that stupid urn. And let me tell you, wails of pure torture are a damn _hassle_ to get out of cashmere."

This time, you took quite a few deep breaths, hoping that increasing the number would decrease the petty rage boiling within you, the rage that only someone in cleaning service could understand. You noticed that the ink was a bit fainter than before, that you had at least made a dent. Your shoulders sagged slightly, tension releasing where you hadn't even realized you had any.

"Sorry for the big rant," you told the figure sitting next to you, "Thanks for being such a good listener. I complain too much, huh? As far as eternal servitude to a monster of terror and destruction goes, I've honestly been pretty lucky..."

5.0.5. responded with a very reassuring "buh buh," although it might've been a "buh _bah_." You weren't quite sure, but decided not to bother him by asking. Nevertheless, you greatly appreciated his input. He always did know what to say to comfort you.

"You're right, of course," you replied, stopping your frantic actions to give the bear a hug, which he gladly accepted, "This will all turn out fine. I'm going to have a good day today. I can feel it."

5.0.5. nodded in agreement, squeezing you lovingly with his large paws. You decided to tap him so he would let you go before "lovingly" accidentally turned into "_crushingly_."

"Right," you started up again, brushing off the lingering blue strands of fur from your shirt, pulling up your sleeves, and steeling yourself for the current mission.

"I think I'm going to risk it, 5.0.5.," you said with a solemn sort of reserve, tone as serious as a morgue, _"I think I'm going to use the bleach_."

Just as you were about to reach for the said object from your bucket of stain-fighting ammunition, you glanced up, only to see a blur of red and neon green hurtling your way. Both you and 5.0.5. pressed yourselves against the closest wall, waiting for Demencia to pass the two of you with the same sort of bated breath one would anticipate a natural disaster with.

This being _Demencia_, you weren't very far off the mark.

She let out a maniacal cackle as she ran past you, and it was so impressive of a cackle that you resolved to ask for lessons on evil laughter sometime later that day. Perhaps she could help you refine your "_menacing guffaws_"; they were a bit lacking, if you dared to admit.

Just as you were about to yell at her to watch where she was going, the madwoman unfortunately bumped against the counter, which, even more unfortunately, had the jar of ink still placed precariously on its edge. She didn't even notice as she turned a corner, disappearing from sight, but not from ear while she continued to screech like a banshee.

You watched in stunned silence as the ink began to teeter off the edge of the counter, as if in slow motion. A number of options surfaced to your mind, each one coming in rapid succession.

You could try to lunge for the bottle, but you doubted that you had the coordination to catch it. Perhaps if you laid on the floor where it was going to spill, you might block the pesky ink from reaching the carpet. Then again, that plan sounded rather messy, and you didn't want to ruin your uniform. Evil Outfitters wasn't the cheapest establishment, to say the least, and the job occupation of "Dastardly Henchman" doesn't pay as well as you think.

A third option presented itself, and you couldn't help but think that it was, by far, the best one yet.

As the cartridge of ink fell to the ground, you didn't move an inch. 5.0.5. attempted to stop it, but you only stepped in front of him, motioning for him to halt with a very smug grin on your face. The ink splashed to the ground, covering the old stain with a fresh, pitch black one.

Roaring in despair, 5.0.5. proceeded to lose his ever-loving shit.

"Calm down, calm down 5.0.5," you told him soothingly, hoping that your words would stop him from running around aimlessly in a panic.

"We have nothing to worry about because we never spilled any ink in the first place," you began, taking note of the confused face the bear was giving you, "You see, no one was here when I spilled the ink the first time, so it didn't happen. But, we both saw Demencia just do it, so it must've been her all along, right?"

You gave 5.0.5. a conspiring look, rubbing your hands together in glee like the devious gremlin you were. Was putting all of the blame on Demencia a low blow? Maybe, but you were evil, after all, and you had to admit, you rather liked it. Murder, torture, and other such trifles weren't really your forte, but you had no difficulties in petty crimes like these. None at all, in fact, not when it meant avoiding the wrath of your boss.

5.0.5.'s eyes went wide as he realized what you meant, and he couldn't help but give you a hesitant smile, still looking a bit nervous, but overall subdued. You, on the other hand, decided that it was the perfect time to let out your trademark evil laugh, which you may or may not have practiced in front of your mirror for hours when no one was around.

"MWHAHAHAH HA HA!"

Hmm, you were a bit squeaky on the high notes, you contemplated, mid-cackle, eyebrows knit in frustration. Clearing your throat, you attempted it again, only to face the same problem. Truly, you really just _must_ beg Demencia some time for pointers. It was almost embarrassing, your mediocre attempt at laught-

"What the hell are you doing?" came a voice behind you, interrupting your thoughts.

Turning around, you were suddenly staring at someone's chest. Raising your chin slowly, you soon figured out who the owner of the before-mentioned chest belonged to, much to your dismay.

"Ah, Mr. Black Hat, hm, sir!" you replied hesitantly, horrified that he had witnessed your less-than-satisfactory evil cackle, "Just working on my maniacal laughter, of course. You know how it is these days with those newfangled youngsters calling themselves villains."

"_Newfangled_?" Really? You inwardly slapped yourself, but it was too late to stop now.

"They have no respect for the importance of a good dastardly chuckle! Just, ah, trying to keep the tradition alive, is all!" you punctuated your last statement with a fist pump, hoping that Black Hat could recognize your obvious passion for villainy.

Black Hat, in turn, was hoping that you could recognize his obvious disappointment in your mindless bumbling, and he made sure to not be discreet about it.

"Your high notes are rather squeaky," he decided to answer simply, voice sounding both like the rumble of an earthquake and the grating of nails on chalkboard at the same time.

You snapped your fingers angrily, mumbling under your breath to yourself an agitated, "I knew it!"

"And why is there ink on the carpet?" he added, finally noticing the imposing stain, the tone in his voice growing lower, a warning for his impending anger.

"Oh, that was all Demencia!" you responded a bit too quickly, a bit too eagerly, raising your hands in surrender as you looked to 5.0.5. for back-up.

5.0.5., however, was currently inching himself away from the scene of the crime with a peculiarly _ample_ amount of stealth, given that he was a giant blue bear with a flower growing out of his head. You decided not to call him out, knowing full-well how fearful he was of Black Hat, and for good reason.

You couldn't think long about your blue friend, since in a flash Black Hat had seized both of your wrists with one of his hands, his grip only tight enough to cause a smidge of discomfort, a subtle hint reminding you of just how powerful he was.

"I see," he answered quietly, inspecting your hands before moving to your eyes.

"But then, how did these black stains get here?" he asked in an almost mocking tone, seeming to delight in the way your face blanched of color when he pointed to the very obvious ink splotches littering the skin of your fingers, your palms, your wrists.

Black Hat, a monster disguised as a gentleman, gave you a sneer disguised as a smile.

You, in turn, mentally cursed yourself for not checking to see if any evidence was left behind before blatantly lying to a creature that could easily tear you limb to limb.

"Ha, yes well," you started, forcing yourself to smile back at him in return, "If I was really to blame, wouldn't you have caught me _red_ handed, not black?"

You laughed awkwardly. Black Hat stared.

He rubbed his temple with one hand, then squeezed your wrists harder with the other, digging his fingers into your skin until you let out a soft cry of pain. He let go, right when there was pressure enough to bruise, but never to break. As annoying as you were, you were far too interesting to do something as careless as break.

You rubbed at the reddened skin, gritting your teeth, every nerve on edge. You were the slightest bit grateful for the stinging pain. It was sobering, and you needed your wits about you while in his company.

"I have something to discuss with you," Black Hat continued, acting as if didn't just almost crack bone, already walking in the other direction with barely a glance toward you.

"_Follow_."

You quickly stumbled after him, trying to match his brisk pace, to keep up. For every one of his steps, you had to take two. It wasn't very different from every other aspect of your boss, though. He was constantly ahead of everyone.

"I couldn't help but notice that something is... amiss in the mansion," Black Hat began after a moment of walking down the hallway, surprising you with his second of hesitation.

Your blood suddenly ran cold. Black Hat seldom, seldom hesitated.

"I wanted to ask if you had any idea of what that might be," he continued, glancing down where you followed beside him, voice noticeably curt, guarded.

Was this a test? Were you in trouble? You couldn't help but wonder, recounting every little misdeed that you had committed under his roof, going through the list to see if anything warranted his horrifying anger. You tried to maintain a poker face, but, then again, you always were a terrible gambler. It was probably because you didn't wear a spade, a diamond, or a club on your sleeve.

You wore your heart.

"Ok, ok," you finally broke, your resolve deflating like a popped balloon, "It was _me_. When Flug asked where the tub of ice cream went when we had just bought it the day before, I said I didn't know, but it was me. I ate the whole damn thing at one in the morning on the floor of the kitchen. I- I didn't even have the decency to put it in a bowl. I ate it straight from the tub. Like an _animal_."

"Wha-" Black Hat began, giving you an incredulous look.

You stopped him short, quickly rushing to defend your honor.

"Yes, well, you must understand, sir. I mean, everyone stress-eats, and can you blame me when my occupation is this? Come on, I've lost count of how many times you've threatened my life. Little things like that add up, you know. And, and once I saw you eat a whole chicken carcass in one gulp, so, no disrespect, but do you really have room to tal-"

It was Black Hat's turn to interrupt, hastily stopping in front of you to unceremoniously cover your mouth with his hand, cold palm pressed flat against your lips.

"That's not what I was talking about," he practically hissed, his other hand grasping your shoulder as he shook you, as if to knock some sense into your brain.

You carefully placed your hand over the one covering your mouth, prying his fingers off hesitantly, one by one.

"Then," you whispered softly, mortified, "Is this about when you handed me your coat the other day to place on the coatrack? Did you... did you see me lean in and sniff it?"

Black Hat blinked, stunned.

"What?" he asked, your confession landing a critical hit on the Lord of All Destruction, who you learned (from reasons unknown) smelled of earthy cologne, ashes, and a hint of iron.

Ah, he didn't know. Best to play it dumb, act like you didn't just admit that you were somewhat of a creep.

"Ha, _what even is a coat?_" you asked with an exaggerated shrug, wondering if, perhaps, you played it just a bit too dumb.

The Epitome of Evil smacked the back of your head. You accepted it without complaint; you sort of had it coming to you.

"Must I spell everything out for you?" he finally scoffed, softly hitting you once more for good measure, "I have suspicion to believe that someone has... _breached_ security. You clean the estate regularly. I'm sure you've explored more corners of my estate than I'd like. If you see anything unusual, anything strange, report to me immediately. _Do you understand?"_

You stared up at your boss, connecting the dots while simultaneously dropping your jaw.

"You mean, someone broke into the mansion?" you gasped loudly, which caused Black Hat to once again cover your mouth.

"Yes," he growled, annoyed. "And I want to keep it discreet. It's been centuries since I've last had an intruder. Whoever did this is intelligent enough to bypass security, but so absolutely _idiotic_ that they dared to actually do it."

Black Hat straightened up, pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves before placing his hands behind his back. You, now free to talk again, seized the opportunity.

"Don't worry, sir!" you replied with a salute. "I promise to protect you, no matter what! I'll make sure to capture this guy for you, trust me. You don't have to worry at all."

"I am not worried," Black Hat replied sharply, looking indignant, "I never get _worried_. And you will be doing no such thing, you little cretin. You are to only inform me of any incidents, nothing more. _Understood_?"

He punctuated his last words by leaning down to your eye level, making your breath catch in your throat. Your brows furrowed, upset that he wasn't letting you help him, prove to him that you were a good subordinate, a loyal one. Did he really think so little of you that he thought you were defenseless, that you were weak?

You puffed up your chest, face set in determination.

"Sir, please, I wanna do more to help you. I can do this for you..." You cast your gaze to the floor, a light tint surfacing to your cheeks. "_Always for you..._" you whispered under your breath.

Black Hat, ever analytical, studied your expression, finding that he was very familiar with the face you were giving him right now. You were going to obsess over this. Like a stubborn mule, you weren't going to listen to reason, his reason, at all, instead fixated on this stupid, dangerous idea. You were going to go against his orders. With anyone else, this fact would have made him destroy them on the spot.

Black Hat sighed.

You were not anyone, though.

Threats barely did anything when it came to you, as long as you thought you were "helping" him. What a fool. But, perhaps, he could use another tactic to get his way. He was good at negotiating, after all. It was a skill he had mastered after centuries of life, of business, of manipulation. He could bend, break even the most steely, most rigid of people in more ways to even name.

He placed his cold, calloused hand on your shoulder before softly, gently, dragging it up your neck, your reaction instantaneous. You seized up under his touch, and he watched as your hands at your sides balled up the fabric of your clothing, knuckles white.

He exhaled. Honey caught more flies than vinegar, after all.

He bent closer down to you, running his thumb up along the curve of your cheek. You wouldn't dare look up at him, afraid he'd see the flush in your face, the way your breathing was uneven.

You absently wished you could capture this moment.

"Sir..."

"My dear, won't you look at me?" His gravely, hoarse voice was unnaturally soft, and if you had any sense in you, you probably would have realized that it sounded forced.

Instead, you lifted your gaze, eyes wide. You let out a breath, realizing that your lungs had started to burn. You eased your muscles a little, leaning into his touch, into Black Hat's open palm.

"You won't go against my orders, will you now? You'll do as I say?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, watching as you melted beneath him.

You hesitated for only a second, blinking a few times as you fought against the haze you were in.

"Yes, sir," you gulped, "Anything you want."

He gave you a tight smile before patting your cheek a few times. You closed your eyes at the contact, debating whether to be bold enough to reach out and place a hand on his arm. But then, he had pulled away from you before you could even try.

You opened your eyes, feeling colder than before, feeling lost, exposed.

He had composed himself already, his expression detached, hands behind his back.

"Good." His voice was as cold as his leather gloves. You absently wondered why he wouldn't look you in your eyes. "That will be all, then."

You stared dumbly at him, wondering, hoping, that he would at least say something more.

"_You are excused_," he growled, turning his back to you, his long coat swishing behind him.

"Of- of course," you said quietly, your voice sounding surprisingly small.

You turned and walked in the other direction, your throat feeling tight for some reason. You looked back at him, but only once. The monster who had seemed so rushed, so busy just a moment ago was standing right where you had left him, back still turned to you.

You wished you knew what he was thinking as you wiped something wet from your eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Demencia, do you think I'm a good fighter?" you asked the woman who was currently plastering yet another stolen picture of Black Hat onto a collage of about five-hundred other pictures of him, give or take.

Your legs swung from the side of her lumpy, unmade bed, shifting your hips so that you avoided the part smattered with nacho cheese stains.

"Hmm, hard to say. Never seen you fight much," she absently replied, currently busy with pasting another picture on her wall.

You jumped off the bed, striking what you believed to be an impressive stance before letting out a war cry.

"Right hook, left hook, upper cut, uh, _downer cut,_" you exclaimed, performing each motion with its respective name.

When you glanced back at Demencia, you were only met with her face twisted into a smirk, which turned into a smile, which turned into a laugh.

You folded your arms around yourself, feeling embarrassed for the second time that day. Your encounter with Black Hat in the morning was still etched into your brain, and you soon realized that Demencia wasn't going to help with your uneasiness in any way.

"That bad?" you asked with a huff, face pinched into a frown.

"_Downer cut? _That's not a thing," Demencia responded between her laughter, wiping a tear from her eye.

"You know what, I've got work to do," you replied curtly, walking to the door in as big as a huff as you could, given that you had to jump over a few piles of dirty clothes.

"Aww, but I thought you wanted me to help with your squeaky laughs!" Demencia taunted, a blurry picture of Black Hat stuck in her hair.

"Maybe later," you grumbled, slamming her door behind her.

You stepped out into the hall, feeling angry, restless. Your legs moved without your permission. You briskly walked down hallway after hallway, not really having a destination.

Why was Black Hat so confusing? Why had he told you about the intruder, but forbidden you to do anything that would actually help? Why did he speak so softly, touch you so softly, then suddenly turn cold? Why did your heart flutter when he called you "dear?" Why did you feel so alone when he made you leave? Deep down, you probably knew. You probably knew that he was only using you.

You probably didn't care.

You stopped walking when you realized that you were in a remote area of the mansion. It was quiet, save for a slight clacking sound. Holding your breath, you listened, wondering what the noise was. It was close.

You looked to your right, from where the sound was coming from, a tinge of dread washing over you. The door next to you was completely normal, save for its knob, which was slowly turning, producing the clicking sound.

Blood running cold, you prepared to bolt, connecting the dots in record time that this might just be the "breach in security" that Black Hat was talking about.

The door suddenly swung open. Something, someone, grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you to the ground. You kicked up, swinging your arms, but you couldn't wriggle out of the strong grip holding you down. Your fist made contact with an eye socket, and you were rewarded with a sharp slap to the face.

Then another.

A cry ripped from your throat as a cold rag was placed over your mouth, the strong scent of chemicals burning your nostrils.

Your world went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Hat was sitting in his study, reminiscing.

He did not do this very often. He was a busy man, after all, but he had found himself slipping into daydreams, reflecting on past events, more and more frequently. He wouldn't admit that this needless habit was related to you. No, certainly not. It was merely coincidence that he was thinking of you right now, merely curiosity.

Why had he stopped so long in the hallway, after you had left him?

He had been thinking when he stood there. Yes, that was it. You always did have a way of making him stop and think. Why were you so dedicated to serving him, protecting him? He almost laughed aloud, all alone in his study. He didn't need protection, not from anyone, especially not from you. You were the fragile one; you were the one who could be so easily, easily _broken_. Didn't you know that? Were you really so foolish that you'd go out seeking danger for his behalf, cutting short your already minuscule lifespan for _his_ sake?

Black Hat's face remained calm as he squeezed the arm of his chair, splintering wood.

Then, then, you had so _easily_ pressed yourself into his touch. _His_. What a foolish mouse, to relax under the paw of a lion. He scoffed. He straightened his tie. He wished he could pin you down and tear you to pieces until found exactly what made you tick. He wished he could keep you safe, preferably forever, but he knew keenly well that you were very much finite.

That was why he had warned you to keep your guard up. He wasn't going to tell anyone, not a soul. Someone invading his house was devastating for his pride. He was _Black Hat_. Petty home invaders were beneath him. He could very well handle this himself, but the thought of you wandering around the mansion, unguarded and unaware of potential danger, nagged at him. He knew how absent-minded you could be. It would be so easy for someone to strike you down. In fact, right this minute, you could be attacked, killed, taken, all while he sat here like an oaf.

The arm of his chair cracked with a sickening sound as it broke in half under his grip.

Black Hat stood, cleaning splinters of oak from his hand as he decided that he had wasted enough time. He was going to go and find you, see if you had seen anything yet. It was very important for his search, since he had already spent many hours combing through the mansion. He needed your input to capture the buffoon romping around his estate.

It wasn't because he wanted to see that you were alright.

Certainly not.

Right after he had closed the door to his study, he was greeted with a rather annoying doctor, who had apparently been standing outside his study.

"_What is it, Flug?_" he asked sharply, in no mood to talk with the trembling man in front of him.

"Well, you see, b-boss..." Dr. Flug started lightly, voice as shaky as his long legs, "I think that... I think that our newest member of the organization just was abducted."

Black Hat was done reminiscing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, long time no see! Next fic will be either the conclusion of this, or a one-shot I’ve had brewing for awhile about dance lessons, haha. Hope you enjoyed, and please feel free to comment!! I love feedback! ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> P.s. How do I show that this is chapter 1/2 instead of 1/1?? Am I just tired and not seeing the option to do that?


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